


Day #5: But Instead It Just Kept On Raining

by OJared



Series: The Christmas You Get You Deserve.  Destiel Ficmas. [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Domestic, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Dean, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party Games, Dean is Bad at Feelings, Dean is In Over His Head, Dean is So Done, Dean is a Good Friend, Destiel - Freeform, Destiel Advent Calendar 2015, Ficmas, Ficmas Day #5, First Christmas, Fluff, M/M, Married Castiel/Dean Winchester, Married Couple, Married Life, Not really though, Old Married Couple, Slight underage, it's just mentioned, part 2 of 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 03:16:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5359109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OJared/pseuds/OJared
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's asked to talk to a teenager about feelings.</p><p>Or</p><p>The one where Dean realises just how long Cas has been in his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day #5: But Instead It Just Kept On Raining

**Author's Note:**

> Title from I Believe In Father Christmas by Greg Lake
> 
> This is Part 2 of yesterday's story and is definitely the good bit. It really kicks up and Dean is very awkward.

He finds Julie in the kitchen, sobbing into a tea towel and is just about to turn around and leave when she spots him.

"Oh," she cries, quickly wiping her eyes on the festive dish-dryer, "Sorry, lovely. I didn’t see you there."

Dean cringed at the term of affection but pushed it back before giving his best, charming smile and taking a step into the kitchen, hoping that one of the two champagne flutes sitting on the kitchen island is his.

"It’s okay, you cry all you like." He hoped it came off more as a piece of advice than a dismissal but he wasn’t sure, so he looked her in the eye and gave his best impression of concern.

If his mother could see him now, she would be appalled at him taking no concern to an elderly lady crying into a dirty rag in her kitchen whilst a rather _riveting_ party happened just down the hall. That thought made him stir a little, even in death, he wanted to impress his mother in every and any way possible.

"Sometimes it’s good," He tries to clamber out of the hole he’s digging, "Ya know, to, er, let it all out."

She smiles slightly at this but Dean doesn’t like it. It’s a pitiful smile, like she doesn’t find any refuge in his words but finds it endearing that he tried and, frankly, he’s not going to help if that’s how it’s received. Her expression changes though as if she actually processes the words, _probably builds them up a little more because, really, it was shit._

"I guess you’re right, lovey," She concedes, giving a watery smile, "It’s just that Christmas is so stressful. Especially now that the twins are getting older. You’d think that it’d get easier the older they got but Greg and I, we were always quite responsible. We always knew that they weren’t going to remember the earlier Christmases, so we didn’t get them much but now they’re older they want all this technology. Georgia wants a laptop, but not just any laptop. An eight-hundred dollar laptop that’s also one of those tablet-majigs and then Freddie, he wants a fancy computer and all the accoutrements. We have money, I’m not going to deny that but we don’t have that much," She pauses to take a breath but Dean thinks she’s finished, "I’m also certain that Gregory is sleeping with Freddie’s girlfriend and that Freddie’s girlfriend is just a cover-up for his homosexuality."

Dean hears the smack of his jaw hitting the kitchen tiles and he suddenly feels sorry for Julie. He’s also absolutely certain that Freddie’s girlfriend is most likely underage.

"Well, erm, I don’t really have anything to say to that."

"Oh, no, dear. Don’t feel like you have to. I’m completely fine, Gregory has been unable to satisfy me for many years and Frederick will talk to me when he’s ready. Actually, would you mind, maybe, having a chat with him? It might help coming from a fellow gay man."

Dean is done. He’s ready to leave this house and run a hundred miles. He never even wanted to go to, what he thought was going to be, a nice, quiet party and now, here he was, listening to the hostess talk about her in-the-closet gay son and her cheating, unsatisfactory husband. All he wanted was a _goddamned_ drink.

Him, being the stupid ass person he is, actually agrees to talking to Freddie. He has no idea how he is going to do it and consider going to find Cas and getting him to do it. Cas was better at advice than him anyway.

Unfortunately, he bumped into Freddie as soon as he entered the main living area. Julie snaked quickly past him, giving a not-so-subtle thumbs up from behind Freddie and trapping him into the terrible situation. Freddie was probably going to need counselling after this. Hopefully, they could afford it because Dean would not be held responsible.

"Hiya, Freddie. It’s good to see you." He smiled, desperately trying to think of ways to get out of this.

"Hey, Mr Winchester. Thanks for coming, Mom got really excited when she heard you were. I think you and Mr Winchester, like, your husband Mr Winchester, not your brother Mr Winchester, are her token gays. She talks about you all the time to her book club. They’ve all been searching around for two flamboyant queens all night." Freddie greets back, pushing his ginger bangs out of his face and flashing Dean a bright, brace-filled smile. The Gurdens twins both looked exactly like each other, not so much since Georgia had grown her hair so it flowed, completely straight down her back and framed her face. Neither of them, actually, looked like their parents. Their parents had, or used to have, dark brown hair and naturally tanned skin, they were both quite well built and had sleek figures whereas the twins were tall and lanky with flaming orange hair. They were both, also, pale and freckled. It was quite unusual.

"I got an idea. Why don’t you call me Dean? My husband," His heart fluttered a little, "Cas and your teacher Sam. Unless you’re at school, then you should probably call him Mr Winchester or not. That’d be funny to watch. As for your Mom’s book club, I hope that they’re disappointed. Listen, actually, your Mom wanted me to have a chat with you and quite honestly I don’t know what to do. I’m not a dad, at least, I don’t think I am, but just know that if you ever need to talk to anyone about anything then I’ve got an ear to lend and I’m sure Sammy wouldn’t mind you going to him either." He says, looking over to where Sam was talking to Georgia animatedly, probably about some nerdy stuff.

Freddie looks confused for a moment before his eyes turn wide and he goes bright red, the same colour as his hair almost. He then stutter for a reply and obviously thinks he got one out, _he didn’t_ , and he scurries off in the direction of the stairs.

Georgia somehow notices, _Dean bets it’s twin telepathy,_ and goes chasing off after him.

Dean feels kind of bad. He remembers what it was like to be in the closet, luckily, his dead-beat Dad died before it got out but he still had to handle Sam, who didn’t know better than to hate _the gays_. Sam, though, had surprised Dean and had not gotten angry but had asked Dean to sit down with him and explain. Somewhere, deep down, Sam had known that this wasn’t something that Dean would have chosen. Obviously now, Dean wouldn’t change a thing but back then he had felt ashamed and like an abomination. He had Cas now and that was all he needed.

"What did you do?" Sam asks, sauntering up to him with a bottle of common, cheap beer. Dean doesn’t know where they are, but he wants one.

Dean shrugs, not wanting to lose Freddie’s trust, _if he even had it in the first place._

"I need a drink." He grumbles, eyeing Sam’s beer.

Sam just shrugs this time, like keeping the beers away from Dean is his greatest and most difficult mission so far, _tune in next week to see if Sam is successful in Mission: Douchebag._

Dean, fortunately, spots Cas on the other side of the room, also with a beer dangling from his fingers as he chats leisurely with two lovely looking women. He strides over, smiling to both of them.

"Hello, ladies." He greets, trying to conspicuously reach out for Cas’ beer.

Thankfully, Cas isn’t a dick, _that’s why he married him,_ and lets him take the bottle. He takes a big swig, definitely noticing the women staring at him like he’s an alien. _Cas is the one wearing the damn bright green elf hat_.

He shows them a big grin before reluctantly handing the bottle back to Cas.

"We were just talking about _‘The Hunger Games’,_ Jill and Hayley have been reading in their book club." Cas informs him as he nods along, still smiling at the two women, who are drinking it all in like apple juice. _He’s so goddamn charming and he know it_.

"Oh, you’re the book club ladies? Fred was telling me all about you," Dean continues smiling, but turns his gaze to Cas, who looks absolutely adorable in his soggy elf hat and jumper, "Apparently, Julie’s been talking us up quite a lot."

The two women, Jill and Hayley, both stare at them then, trying to figure out who they are before both their mouths form ‘O’ shapes.

"Well, I must say. You definitely aren’t what we were expecting." Jill says, her mouth reforming back into a smile.

Dean likes her, he decides.

Cas is grinning, a full on toothy grin and Dean loves it, soaking it in as if it were a ray of pure sunshine.

Hayley nods her agreement to Jill’s statement and they all hear the _ting ting ting_ of someone hitting a spoon against a glass.

They turn to see Julie, stood smiling like nothing had happened just half an hour ago, next to Greg, holding the glass with a broad smile. He presses pause on the stereo.

"Hello, folks. Welcome to our annual Christmas Party. We’re gonna start off tonight with a game!" Greg projects across the room.

And here Dean thought this night couldn’t get any worse.

"Can we have all the couples to middle of the room please?" It’s Julie speaking now and she seems to be genuinely happy, " We’re going to be playing a spin on the traditional wedding game, all the couples are going to dance and I’m going to call out a number. Once the number exceeds the amount of Christmases you have spent together then I would like you to leave the dancing area."

Dean hadn’t even noticed that the seats and coffee tables had been moved to the side of the room. He didn’t want to participate, he wasn’t going to. That’s final.

Two minutes later and he’s up on the dance floor, _‘I Believe In Father Christmas’_ playing in the background and Julie is shouting numbers out.

It wasn’t until Julie got to ‘nine’ that Dean realise how long him and Cas had really been together. They may have only been married for a year and a bit but they had, ultimately been dating since high school, in fact, Dean remembered perfectly well the first Christmas they spent together. They were sixteen and they had gone out on Christmas Eve and just not gone home, deciding that they didn’t need the family drama. Sleeping under a tree in the middle of December probably wasn’t a good idea but they had each other to keep them warm and it was definitely worth the ass kicking he got off his Dad and the shouting from Sammy for ‘ _leaving him alone’_. It then dawned on him that that was twenty years ago.

"We’re old, man." He says, adjusting his hands around Cas so that they fell on his hips instead of his back.

Cas huffed a laugh, threading his fingers through the hairs at the nape of his neck.

"And getting older by the second."

"Castiel Novak, everybody. Ever the optimist."

Cas laughs again, his smile blinding and his endlessly blue eyes sparkling under the chandelier.

"Fifteen." Julie shouts and Cas’ breath on his cheek becomes all the more noticeable as another couple leaves the dance.

There is only four couples left now, one of which is Greg’s Aunt Gladys, who had roped Sam into dancing with her, and another is a very elderly couple that Dean suspects will be the winners. Dean wanted to win though, it was only a meat hamper, _whatever the hell that was_ , but he didn’t like losing.

At ‘seventeen’, another couple leaves, meaning that him and Cas are battling it out against the two old bats on the other side of the floor, considering that he doesn’t think an absolutely shit-faced Gladys and a desperate looking Sam count as contestants.

Dean’s actually surprised, most of the people here are rich and middle-aged and he expected most of them to have been together for longer.

"Nineteen!" Julie shouts and Dean wants to leave then, no bother waiting until twenty-one to leave, they know they’ve lost.

"Twenty!" Cas seems to be readying himself to leave now, unwrapping his hands from around Dean’s neck and letting them rest on his shoulders.

"Twenty-one!" They both make their way to the edge of the group and people start clapping for the old couple who are smiling like they’ve just won a million pounds.

"That would’ve been a nice Christmas present for my Dad." Cas grumbles, picking his beer up off the side and taking a swig then passing it to Dean.

Cas continues grumbling about the loss, _Dean never knew he was so competitive. He liked it._ Until, eventually, they overhear that the old couple had been together for longer than they had been alive and that kind of curved Cas’ moaning and whining into animated talking about how he hopes they were still together when they were that old, to which Dean joked that they wouldn’t be ( _‘He wasn’t into wrinkly old men, no matter how blue their eyes were’)._ Cas grumbled about that, too. He was grumbling a lot, and much like a child, it was because he was tired and _needed some sleepikins_ so they both slipped away unnoticed, giving one more glance to Sam, still trapped with Gladys, and sending him a wink and a thumbs up.

The silence of their house was comforting as they crawled into bed, both contemplating how it hadn’t actually been that bad of a night.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Make sure to kudos and comment!
> 
> ༶･･ᗰદ૨૨ʏ ᘓમ૨ıડτന੨ડ･･༶


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